


Hold me in your memory

by cassanabaratheon



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassanabaratheon/pseuds/cassanabaratheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowing he had nothing else to lose, he asked the question that had been burning in his being since the moment he was thrown in this prison.<br/>“I would ask of you, your grace, to allow me to see my wife before-” He couldn’t suddenly make himself say it and he saw Edward’s fists clench by his side.</p><p>AU: in which Richard is taken prisoner rather than killed at Barnet and is about to be executed. His last wish is to see his wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold me in your memory

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Chloe.  
> You're welcome ;)

He squinted as the light shone inside his darkened cell which he had been kept in for the past three days. True, it was better equipped than other cells but it was nevertheless a prison and a step before the inevitable walk to the scaffold. Everything in his mind was in turmoil, going over it all time and time again till he could barely take it anymore.

He wanted to scream.

He should have never of joined forces with Margaret but his pride was a terrible thing that could not survive on the scraps it was fed by Edward. Now here he was, a condemned man who had gambled and lost everything.

He stood up lowly, bones aching in their sockets and he bowed low. Edward kept him like that for a few minutes as he tried to comprehend that his shadow of a man was once one of the greatest men in all of England. 

“Warwick,” he said eventually in a cool and distant tone and it was a sign for him to get up and face him.

When he did, Edward wanted to shout and rage at him, the man who had once been everything to him – guardian, mentor, and now prisoner. Neither said a word for a while, both watching and waiting. This had been the first time that Edward had seen him since he had taken him captive on the battlefield. Some had said he should have executed him there and then but he had resisted. He didn’t want this man, who had once been his greatest supporter, to meet his end like that. In the back of his mind, Edward knew that an official execution would also stop fanciful rumours of Warwick supposedly escaping and gaining supporters. It would also display Edward’s hold on his crown and power.

“Are we to stare at each other all night?” Warwick asked finally with a weary look. Edward studied him carefully, lines grooved and bracketed his face from worry and exhaustion. He looked nothing like the proud and mighty man he had known all his life. He was smaller, somehow fragile and almost pitiful had his eyes not betrayed him. They still had that strength that did not allow for pity and caused, even at a moment like this, admiration. He realised he would expect nothing less.

“When will it take place?” Richard murmured when Edward continued to stay mute.

“Two days hence at dawn,” he replied quietly and he looked almost sorry about it, he eyes concentrating on Warwick’s ragged attire than his eyes. “There will be no crowds. Myself and my brothers will attend.”

Richard let out a breath of relief. “My daughters?”

Edward shook his head.

Richard considered him and then, knowing he had nothing else to lose, he asked the question that had been burning in his being since the moment he was thrown in this prison.

“I would ask of you, your grace, to allow me to see my wife before-” He couldn’t suddenly make himself say it and he saw Edward’s fists clench by his side.

“You would ask a favour off of me?” he spat but not out of rage but hurt. Hurt that it had come to this.

Richard waited and eventually was answered with the King calling out for a guard to come. The door opened and Edward turned away from him but stopped at the threshold.

“You may see her the night before,” he snapped and then stormed away, the door drawn close and bolted behind him.

Once more in the dark but for one candle, Richard shut his eyes and prayed.

 

-.-

 

She had never considered a building as sinister but at this moment, looking up at the high walls of the Tower, a shiver passed through her as she was led within. Somewhere within these walls a former queen was trapped inside, surrounded by stone and very little else. Somewhere within these walls, a former king had died (natural causes they said but that did not stop dark whispers of murder from circulating) and somewhere in here her husband was been kept a prisoner for raising arms against the King. The guard that had escorted her from her self-proclaimed sanctuary (which was her own prison) took her to where the King was waiting for her. She kept her hood up and eyes down until she was told to wait and, looking up, she saw the King. The boy she once knew and thought would be the answer to all her dreams, came down to her, pausing on the stairs and no, she thought, he was no boy. He scrutinised her and she made sure not to let any of her anxiety show. She had thought that, should she have ever had a son, she once would have wanted him to have been like him. Now she was not so sure. Nothing was clear anymore, everything turned on its side and so _wrong_.

“My lady,” he said in the end, descending the last steps till he was before her and she dropped into a curtsey. “I trust the journey wasn’t too taxing.”

His cordial words unnerved her a little but she never let it show.

“No, your grace.”

“And, I trust, you are eager to see your husband,” he mused out-loud and thankfully didn’t see the way her hands shook. Anne stayed silent and Edward laughed bitterly. “Come now, my lady. Best not keep him waiting.”

She followed the King’s fast strides down winding corridors till they stopped short of a cell that held her husband. Her heart was pounding in her chest as, for a moment, she thought that maybe this was a trick and she would be locked in here forever – or until she met her own end on the block…

“You have two hours,” Edward said nodding at the guard to unlock the door. “I will come and take you to other… rooms.”

He was about to leave when Anne, unchecked, reached out and touched his arm. It was a risk to instigate something so intimate after all that had happened between them and Edward froze under her touch but she did not remove her hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her throat tight and he looked at her with hard eyes and moved out of her grasp.

“Two hours,” he repeated and left.

Taking a breath, she turned to the door and stepped inside, holding onto the light that the guard had given her. The door was tightly shut behind her and she took a few steps forward and placed the lantern on the side.

“Anne?”

She turned and was greeted with arms, arms that she had known for so many years, being wrapped around her and she gripped onto him. Oh, but how much of him was a shadow of his former self. The strain, the pain and all the exhaustion showed on his face in lines that she did not recognise and there were dark smudges under his eyes. Her heart was aching in her chest as she saw how much smaller he seemed to her and how much older – as if he had aged over a decade since they had parted.

“Are you well?” He asked her and she wanted to laugh. Well? Her husband was about to executed for treason, her daughters were safe but she could not see them and she was all but a captive. He must have seen her thoughts on her face and muttered apologises until she stopped him by placing fingers lightly against his lips. He gazed at her, wounded and desperate, holding her hand to his mouth, unconciously kissing her fingers and palm.

“Anne,” he said again, a broken muffled sound and she reached up with her other hand to stroke his face.

Her man; her poor, ruined man. It pained her to see him like this and she pressed her lips to his, wanting to give him just a moment of comfort. But his kisses back were nothing like he had given her before. They were fierce, frantic and hard and it made her tremble – from the force and from the way they unlocked her own desire. Oh God, how they had been starved and in a ravenous hunger, they devoured each other. Suddenly it was as if there was no war, no bitter feuding and no pain and disappointment. They didn’t care if the guard stationed nearby could hear, let the whole place listen if they wanted, they could not abate the storm that they were swept up in.

Her back arched up on his small and narrow bed, hands clutched the thin sheet and her head tipped back, moans and cries caught in her throat. His hands were all over her, one palmed her breast as the other clutched onto her hip, digging his fingers into the soft flesh so hard that he would leave imprints behind. He thrust into her over and over with her hips bucking up to meet him like she always did. Their release was almost simultaneous and he clung onto her, panting against her where he had buried his face against her neck. She wound her arms around him, not commenting on the fact that she could feel tears wet her skin just as she let her own dampen her cheeks.

 

-.-

 

Edward came for her just as he said he would. They had already resolved themselves by the time the two hours that they had been given were up. They could say no more to one another than what they had already said and she kissed him softly for the last time. Edward stood in the doorway but did not watch them, staring straight ahead and waited patiently. Richard took her hand, as he had so many times in the past and squeezed her fingers as he kissed them lightly. It was a silent goodbye as neither could bring themselves to say those words - a habit formed over what seemed suddenly like a life time ago.

Reluctantly, he let her go and she stepped back, eyes dry and spine straight. His smile was ghostly and hers was brittle. She would survive, he thought sadly, she would endure in the way she always would.

How he admired her.

How he _loved_ her.

Edward made a small coughing noise and, unable to stop herself, she kissed him once more before she pulled back sharply and left in a flurry of skirts and tears that she would not allow to fall. Edward gave him a saddened glance, as if this pained him also (no, he knew it _did_ pain him) before he was left alone.

 

-.-

 

It was a beautiful dawn. The sky was without any clouds and the rising sun streaked the heavens in hues of pink and yellow. The brisk morning air nipped at him in his thin white shirt and he tried to hold back a shiver. The stage was set up, the block ready and he stared at it before he looked to see who was in attendance. The three York brothers were there, finely dressed but all with grim expressions - even George who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Edward came towards him, the morning light catching his hair so that it glimmered like spun gold and took his arm before he leaned in to whisper something to him. His words gave him the strength he needed to nod at the King before he began his final ascent.

The steps creaked under his feet and at the top, the priest gave him his hand. He took it and was led to the centre. Then he looked up towards the windows that faced in on this scene and counted along until he reached the one that Edward told him his wife was behind.

He spoke her name under his breath.

 

-.-

 

Anne stood alone in the room that overlooked the courtyard. She pressed herself up against the wall, standing on a small wooden stool. One hand was on the cold window as she watched the procession below with a heart that grew heavier with each moment. She had ordered the ladies that Edward had instructed to take care of her to stand outside. She would not have them watch her break as she knew she would. Her body trembled as she saw him walk out. The sons of York were there, the King going to her husband as he neared the scaffold steps, leaning down to whisper something to him. She thought wildly, irrationally, for a moment that Edward was about to change his mind but her husband gave him a grim nod and continued his path. The priest and the execution were already on the scaffold and a few attendants as well, no doubt there to remark and record this event.

She watched him climb up and face out before he looked up, scanning the windows and she was sure he was looking straight at her. She pressed both her palms against the glass, hoping that he could see her, however faintly, to know that she was there. She did not notice the few tears that escaped and rolled down the side of her cheeks. her breath fell fast and fogged up the glass so she had to wipe at it frantically. 

The priest came to him as he knelt by the block, hands clasped and mouth moving over and over in prayer. She too prayed fervently with one hand now pressed against her thumping heart and the other still on the window though her fingers had curled as if they wanted to claw at the barrier.

Then the executioner approached, asking for forgiveness that her husband gave. It was as if time slowed and she was watching this outside of herself, barely breathing as her eyes widened and the blood in her ears roared as the sword rose…

 

-.-

 

He held his hands in prayer tightly to stop them from shaking. He said the words though his mouth was dry and his voice croaked. She was there watching. Edward had told him so but he had not truly believed until he saw movement behind the dark glass and he instinctively knew it was her. Memories danced in his mind – some of his childhood, some with the men that stood watching and most of all those ones he shared with her and his daughters. His very last prayer was for them as he finished off and opened his eyes for the last time.

He gazed at the wooden block, smooth and darkened where the blood of all those before him had stained the wood – his blood to be added to theirs. He knelt down slowly, now unable to stop the way his legs shook.

It was with a final glance towards the window that he then lowered his head and closed his eyes, heart hammering in his chest till the blade rose up and struck.

 

-.-

 

She cried out loudly – the terrible and heart-wrenching sound filling the room.

The ladies outside rushed to look in but made no attempt to enter as the Countess wept against the window. She sunk down to the floor, hand now clutching over her heart as if she could rip it out for the agony it was in. Her breathing was fast and laboured through her tears and the searing pain that coursed through her whole being. She could not shut her eyes for what she saw made bile rise and she barely managed to grab a bowl as she retched. At some point her tears stopped and her breaths, however ragged, quietened.

It was done.

It was all over.

Numbly, she sat there on the floor until her silence roused the women again and this time they came inside. The one that was in charge ordered two of the younger ones to see to her and clean her up. When one touched her arm, Anne was jolted out of her state and batted the hands away. They drew back and watched as she raised herself to her feet, however unsteady she might have been. She brushed her hands over her face, wiping away all traces of her tears and down her gown. She took in a few deep and steadying breaths before striding past the ladies that began to whisper and call after her but she paid them no heed.

At the end of the corridor she came before Edward, his eyes red-rimmed and face ashen. They stared at one another, the memories between them too much and all-too present at that moment so that he turned from her, unable to bare the weight of her crushing gaze. She was taken back to her Abbey where true loneliness and heartache sunk into her.

 

-.-

 

His body was washed and dressed after being displayed at St Paul’s. Even in death, as it had been at his execution, Edward had denied further dismemberment, strongly voicing his need to show respect to the man that he had owed everything to once. His widowed wife was not in attendance when they buried the body of the Kingmaker at Bisham Priory. She was not allowed to leave Beaulieu but Edward sent her a note to tell her, hoping that maybe it would elevate but a little of the pain though he knew it would not.

 

-.-

 

In her confinement, she waited and waited till the time when she would be called out of her prison. The lands, though hers were denied to her and later they were to be fought over by her son-in-laws like vultures over a half-living carcass. She was nothing now, a mere shell of a woman. Her life as she once knew it had been extinguished and lay in ashes around her feet as she faced an uncertain future with no one but a memory at her side. 


End file.
